


The Long Way Home

by BritChick91



Series: The Adventures of Lydia and Serena Hawke [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Gen, after here lies the abyss, lydia hawke faces the music
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-19
Updated: 2016-11-19
Packaged: 2018-08-31 23:15:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8597599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BritChick91/pseuds/BritChick91
Summary: Lydia returns to her family after the battle at Adamant Fortress. 
Standalone fic





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is a different timeline to From the Fade, where Lydia isn't the one to remain in the Fade.
> 
> It's probably apparent from their dialogue, but Lydia Hawke is a Purple Hawke, whereas Serena is much more a Blue Hawke.

Lydia is not too proud to say that she’s a mess.

For once, not just in an “everything you touch bursts into flames” or “Maker, can you for once think before you make a stupid joke at the worst moment” way, but in a way that involves a great deal of pain and bruises.

She’s pretty beaten up after the big fight – a demon tried very hard to separate her face from her head, so she has a nasty scar curving up her left cheekbone, practically joining the scarring that already crosses the bridge of her nose – in fact, the assault tore open the edge again. The blood smear that has somehow become part of her symbol was of her own blood that day. Lydia can’t help but wince every time she looks in a mirror and realises just how fortunate she is to still be in possession of two working eyes.

And though it’s a silly gripe, her facial tattoos were healed along with the worst of the damage, yet again. And Isabela, the only one she trusts to re-mark her, is currently somewhere on the seas, and she can’t reasonably ask her to return just to redo her friend’s tattoos.

She’s still bruised to the fade and back, including some unsightly bruises caused by the same demon that scarred her cheek. The livid marks are clearly imprints of fingers, but far longer than any creature’s fingers should ever be. It’s uncanny, and it unnerves the unprepared. She has a damn huge black eye too, so vicious that a mage spent a good twenty minutes probing her cheek bone and eye socket to make sure nothing had broken on impact.

  
That’s not even considering the dark bruising covering most of her body – her armour saved her life more times than she cares to count in the last week alone, but there’s only so much it can deaden the impact of weapons, magic and claws, and she bares the results as bruising.

Varric feels guilty, she can tell, even though he’s almost as banged up as she is. He hovered over her while the healers examined her, and looked disapproving when she finally sent the healers to look after “someone who needs it more than I do.” Even if there is damage to her ribs as suspected, there comes a point where only natural healing can fix an issue, and when there are people missing limbs and suffering stab wounds and head trauma, one can deal with some bruises.

She sleeps for what feels like a year, but is actually a day, in a room Leliana provides. They’re not pretending she isn’t at Skyhold anymore, not after she fought alongside the Inquisition forces, but she still feels more comfortable separate from most of the keep. Leliana understands, and the two share wine and pray at the small makeshift shrine to Andraste in the coop. They share secrets and tactics too, from one rogue to the other, and it’s comforting, even as it makes Lydia miss her own group of misfits.

The issue is not that Lydia feels out of place here, in fact the issue is that she feels that in time she could fit in here all too well.

  
Many of the mages greet her as a hero, one of the few who stood up for them in a time when all seemed lost (although Vivienne is cool at best, at least until Lydia softly admits she regrets those pulled into the conflict against their will, then she becomes a fraction warmer, stating that it’s good of Lydia to acknowledge that).

  
Solas regards her as some kind of curiosity for reasons he doesn’t see fit to reveal.  
Dorian, she gives a wide berth. She’s sure she’s being unfair to him, but every time she looks at him she thinks of Fenris, good memories and bad, and it hurts too much. She suspect that Varric takes Dorian aside eventually and explains “the Broody situation”, because he pushes it less after a while.

  
The other Tevinter ex-pat, Krem, on the other hand, she finds she gets on fantastically with, and he is more than happy to help her practise her Tevinter and work on her dialect and often stumbling pronunciation (it’s such a fast language…). The two share war stories on occasion, and Iron Bull sits down with them and fills her cup when she starts talking about Aveline (turns out he has a thing for powerful redheads).

  
They all drink a little more than they should, and it’s just as Lydia is planning her wobbly route back to her bedroll that Iron Bull mentions the Arishok. Leliana had already warned her that Iron Bull was a Ben Hassrath, so she was wondering if the topic would come up. She invokes her right as “Basalit-an” to not have to answer the more probing questions, and it is either this or the fact that she responds in the Qunari tongue that impresses Iron Bull enough that he backs off.

  
Krem gives her a smirk and a tipsy nod of approval, and Lydia escapes with only a promise to consider becoming an “honorary Charger” if she’s ever in the same area and in need of coin. It’s actually a good offer, and the Chargers seem good people.

  
She shares a bottle of wine with Cassandra too, in the quartermaster’s office. Varric casually mentioned how impressed Cassandra had been with the Tale of the Champion, and she spends most of their drinking time either correcting Varric’s embellishments or protesting “No, that really did happen!”

  
She and Cullen share a meal one morning, while most of the Keep is still sleeping. It’s… not awkward, exactly, but there’s a lot of shared bad memories between them. He talks about giving up lyrium, and Lydia asks gentle but numerous questions about it – partly for Carver’s benefit, should he ever decide to follow, but also because she suspects Cullen would never let himself talk about it to another Inquisition member, in order to stay “professional.” The two part as friends, and promise to write to each other (Lydia promises to put a tally of Red Templar kills on her letters as a heading).

  
Josephine is interesting in a slightly terrifying way, in that she sees through all of Lydia’s jokes and bravado to the point that Lydia feels naked. She has a great deal of information about Kirkwall though, and Sebastian’s adventures trying to reclaim the Starkhaven throne, and she lets Lydia read a lot of her letters about those areas for “a taste of home.” She’s worryingly interested in the Hawke family lineage though, especially after she learns that Leandra was part of the Amell family, and thus the Hawke siblings are technically nobility. We’re also technically fugitives, Lydia points out, and Josephine waves a hand dismissively, and states that the Inquisition is already making that go away.

  
At Lydia’s surprised expression, she points out that people are already taking notice of Hawke’s presence alongside the Inquisition, which does not quite get the reaction she was expecting when Lydia groans, knowing she’s well and truly busted now – if her family had any doubts about where she was going, they’re long gone.

 

***

 

It’s three days after the fight that Lydia gathers her pack and prepares to leave. She has done all she can, and home is calling. To her surprise, Leliana finds her and asks for a word, not mentioning her obviously packing up to go.

  
In what Varric would call “Quite the twist”, Leliana asks if she would be interested in becoming an agent for the Inquisition, for the Free Marches. She understands why Lydia must leave, but believes that she is far too strong an asset to lose – this way, they both win. When Lydia agrees, she gifts her with a set of Inquisition armour and a raven to send messages between them.

  
A trickster to the end, she changes into the armour immediately and goes to find Varric to say her goodbyes. He jumps nearly a foot in the air when he realises it’s her, and gets his revenge by stalling her long enough that he can announce to half the keep that she’s leaving, necessitating a long drawn out send-off instead of Lydia slipping away quietly as she’d have preferred.

  
She shakes many hands, gratefully takes the gifts offered to her by many, and finally, with a salute to the Inquisitor (it doesn’t do to be rude to one’s new boss, after all) and a clap of the shoulder for Varric, she sets off down the mountain path.

She sighs when Skyhold is in the distance. It would have been so easy to stay a little longer, even see out the conflict with the Inquisition. But she will not be a coward.

No more than she already has been, anyway.

 

***

 

She’s underestimated Varric, and by the time she reaches Amaranthene, who should be waiting for her but her favourite Pirate Queen in all of Thedas. The two greet each other warmly, even as Isabela expresses concern for the damage Lydia has taken, scars still pink and bruises still mostly purple.

  
She has Lydia tell her everything in the Captain’s Quarters, with Lydia’s head on her lap as she once again applies Lydia’s facial tattoos (they’re different to before because Isabela has to avoid her black eye, but the spirit is there in the gesture).

  
By the time Lydia hits the solid ground of the Free Marches, she has already sent her raven off to inform Leliana that she has another agent for her if she wishes, and she has a full crew eager to assist. Leliana takes them up on the offer, and Isabela kisses Lydia repeatedly on her good cheek before they part, Lydia to the Marches, Isabela back to the waves, but with promises that they will see each other again soon.

And now comes the simultaneously longest and shortest walk of Lydia’s life.

The village they’re staying at is so small and anonymous it doesn’t even really have a name, it’s just “The Village in the Hills”. It has an inn, but it’s barely a small room with a fireplace and a bar. It’s no Hanged Man. The group chose it because it’s close enough to civilisation that they could be in any of the Marcher cities by the end of the day, but it’s so indistinct few maps make much note of it.  
The villagers probably know who they are, even at their most subtle they’re a distinctive looking group, but decided that the coin they’ve brought to the village is worth their silence.

Lydia doesn’t even know who will still be at the village. Bethany may have gone to join Sebastian in Starkhaven, Carver may have decided that if Lydia can go off to fight, so can he, and if he did Merril would likely join him. Aveline is back in Kirkwall, Varric is, of course, at Skyhold, and she doubts Serena would stay at the village on her own; she’d probably go with Bethany to Starkhaven. And Fenris…

Lydia swallows painfully. Serena and the twins would probably (hopefully) forgive her in time, but she has no idea if Fenris could. She’d left the bed they shared to disappear, and it was thinking of his panic the next morning that gave her the most heartache. She’d left him a letter, apologising repeatedly, but also stating that if he wanted nothing more to do with her after this, she would understand. That had not been an easy passage to write.

Here was the curve of the hill that led to the village. She’d be there within 20 minutes, and then she’d be officially facing the music. Taking a deep breath, Lydia started up the hill, wincing as her side protested. She’d come a long way in a day. It was hard to believe it had only been five days since the battle. She sighed again as she saw the village come into view. Nothing for it now. She’d try the house first, see if they’d packed up and left. Maker she needed a drink.

She paused upon reaching the vegetable patches at the end of the village, recognising the profile in front of her. Serena was crouched before a small patch of garden, tending to what appeared to be elfroot. Lydia paused, not sure how to call out to her sister, and as she dithered, Serena stood up, brushed off her hands and paused before turning to look at the presence she felt behind her.

“Lydia?” she said simply, unsure. Lydia pulled down her hood, and saw Serena react subtly at her face.

“The troublemaker returns.” she said, suddenly very weary. “Look, ‘Rena, you’re entitled to your anger and I deserve no less, but do you think we could wait –“  
She was cut off when Serena all but leapt at her, embracing her tightly with a sob.

“You stupid, stupid, stupid girl!” said Serena when she could speak, squeezing with each admonition.

“Ribs…” Lydia protested with a rush of air.

“Sorry.” said Serena, stepping back and smoothing her disposition, although her eyes were red rimmed and shining. She gave Lydia a proper examination, and Serena wasn’t sure what gained more focus, her injuries or her Inquisition armour.

“I will kill Varric.” said Serena at last. “Oh Lydia, your face… what did this to you?”

“The shiner was from a possessed Grey Warden.” said Lydia. “The rest is from a Terror demon. It lived up to its name.”

“Well you can’t be too badly injured if you’re still making jokes.” said Serena, slightly snappy. “Maker, we’ve been going wild with worry about you…”

“I’m sorry…” said Lydia, flagging slightly. “I needed to do this, but I wanted to make sure you guys were safe…”

“You said that in your letter.” said Serena, although her tone was less sharp. “So now, you’re going to explain everything to us – EVERYTHING – so that we understand exactly why you did what you did.” She looked at her sister and her expression softened. “But there’s no reason you can’t sit in a soft chair and eat a hot meal while you do so. It’ll take a while for everyone to get back for the day.”

“Is everyone still here?” asked Lydia softly.

“Well, there hasn’t been a rogue among us since you disappeared, but everyone you left here remains.” said Serena.

“Even Fenris?”

“Especially Fenris, although there were times when we had to talk him down from setting out for Skyhold himself. Especially when the news came in about the huge battle in Orlais, and who should have been seen among the ranks of the Inquisition but one Champion Hawke?”

“Don’t call me that…” Lydia muttered as they headed towards the cottage. “Is everyone angry?”

“Furious.” said Serena bluntly. “Furious with worry and concern. We didn’t know if you were dead or not Lydia! The report last week was the first news in three weeks! Did you expect a hero’s welcome?”

“I half expected you’d all have taken off.” Lydia murmured as Serena opened the door.

“And forfeit our right as your family to scold you for being a prat? I think not.” said Serena.

She clicked her fingers and the fireplace roared to life. “Oh, and Aveline has left Donnic in charge to come here to wait for news, so you won’t be escaping that telling off either.”

“I deserve it, I suppose.” said Lydia, and Serena didn’t miss her wince or how heavily she sat down in front of the fire. “Chastisement or not, it’s really good to see you Serena.”

“You look half dead.” said Serena. “So you’ll forgive me if I don’t return the sentiment, at least in the most literal of sentiments. Maker Lydia, what happened to you?”

“It’s a very long story, and if you don’t mind, I’d like to limit how many times I have to tell it. For now, let me just say it’s been a strange number of weeks.”

Any comment from Serena was interrupted by an explosion of noise as the missing family members all trooped into the house, holding the wares that had removed them from the dwelling in the first place. The cheery discussion and laughter slowly trailed away as each of them noticed the figure sitting before the fireplace.

“Alright,” said Lydia after a moment, uncomfortable with everyone’s staring. “Let me have it then.”  
If anyone was getting ready to “let her have it”, they were interrupted by Bethany all but throwing herself into Lydia’s lap to embrace her and bursting into tears.

“Hey Bethy.” said Lydia, stroking her younger sister’s shuddering back.

“We were so worried!” exclaimed Bethany. “You just upped and disappeared!”

“I know.” said Lydia. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” said Carver, thumping the kitchen table. “We thought you were dead! And you left us with, what, two fucking letters? Letters not addressed to two of your siblings, no less!”

“I didn’t have time to write you all a poem.” said Lydia, getting defensive. “I’d been keeping up with the situation through messengers, and then I got a message indicating things were a lot worse than first thought and I was needed.”

“You should have told us.” snapped Carver. “We should have had the chance to come with you!”

“Out of the question.” said Lydia. “Everything happening is extremely volatile, and I was not getting you all mixed up in it.”

“That wasn’t your call to make!” shouted Carver.

“Am I or am I not the head of this family?” Lydia shouted back, jumping to her feet, eyes practically glowing. “I have never forced any of you to follow me, but since you do, yes it fucking is my call to make! I promised Mother and Father that I would do everything I could to protect you, and yes, maybe I haven’t always been the best at that goal, but this one was pretty clear cut – dragging the family out into a battle between demons, Red Templars and Grey Wardens doesn’t count as protecting them!”

There was a moment where both siblings seethed, glaring at each other.

“If nothing else, I had to travel quick and invisible.” said Lydia in a low voice. “A single traveller who can pass as either Marcher or Ferelden is one thing, but four very similar siblings, a dalish and a tevinter elf? We’d be spotted in minutes. Seconds, even.” She took a deep breath. “Could I have handled it better? Almost certainly. But knowing you were safe and hidden here was the only reason I could leave. And I won’t apologise for that.”  
In the awkward pause, Aveline interrupted, looking at Lydia’s armour.

“That’s the Inquisition symbol.” she said, pointing to the mark on the chestplate. “They give that to everyone just passing through?”

“No.” said Lydia. “Not to my knowledge.”

“You’re an agent then.” said Aveline. “Is this a temporary return?”

“No.” said Lydia. “At least, that’s not the plan. I’m an agent, yes, but they’ve asked me to watch over the Free Marches and wait for orders here.”  
The room visibly relaxed. In the lull, Fenris stepped forward, ever so gently taking Lydia’s chin to assess the damage to her face.

“Who did this to you?” he asked quietly. His voice was soft, but there was a dangerous edge to it.

“Worst of the damage was done by a Terror Demon.” said Lydia. “It’s not as bad as it looks, once the bruises heal I’ll be fine.”

“And the scar?” said Fenris.

“That’s… going to be sticking around.” Lydia admitted.

“So you were at the battle all of Thedas seems to be talking about then.”

“Yes.” said Lydia.

“And now you’re working for the Inquisition.”

“Yes.”

“And you’re never leaving me to wait like a wilting maiden while you risk your life again.”

“Yes, I – wait, what?” said Lydia, thrown.

“If I thought the three years we were estranged in Kirkwall were nightmarish, they were the sweetest of dreams compared to the last month.” Fenris growled. “I am not pleased to be left behind with so little warning. We have all been beside ourselves with anxiety. That said, I believe Carver has covered most of the major concerns quite well, and we will want to know exactly what happened to call you away, what happened in the meantime, and yes, depending on your answers there may be more anger. But for now, may I kiss you?”

“Yes.” said Lydia quietly, but with a small smile, and as Fenris embraced her, her smile grew.  
Yes, her family were understandably angry. Yes, there was a high chance they would become more so as she explained what had happened and why. Yes, she would probably not hear the end of this for quite some time.

But, at least for now, she was home.


End file.
